Irony: A Narrative Fiction

A narrow shaft of sunlight radiated through the awning window, the shimmering beam shining directly onto Booker’s face. With a moan, he fought his way back to consciousness, and opening his eyes, he squinted against the light of the bright rays. A bone-shaking immediately shiver ran down the length of his body, and pushing himself to a sitting position, he drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around his torso. The temperature in the room had dropped rapidly during the night, but he had remained blissfully unaware due in part to head injury he had sustained from the force of the ceramic phone smashing into his skull. The memory of the assault returned in vivid color and lifting his hand to his head, he gingerly explored the lump on his
Emotion surged through him, and his covering his face with his hands, his shoulders heaved, and he gave into his grief. All his pain and humiliation came out in loud, racking sobs, the intensity of his anguish sending tremors of remorse throughout his tired, aching body. Never before had he felt so wretched, so utterly worthless, and at that moment, he hated Tom with a fiery passion. Because of him, he had willing become Holland’s whore, and by doing so, he had degraded himself to the point where he no longer knew who he was or what he stood for; he was a nowhere man. Every time Holland rammed his cock deep inside his anus, another piece of his soul died. Dennis Patrick Booker the man, the son, the friend, and the police officer were all gradually fading away, obliterated beneath the brutality and debauchery of the sexual acts he participated in, and in his place, a faceless automaton was slowly emerging. It was a rebirth of sorts, a metamorphosis from a living, breathing, feeling being, to a desensitized, emotionless robot. The change was an obvious transition, and Booker desperately wrestled with his psyche in an attempt to hang onto his identity, to maintain his sense of self. But every time he voluntarily submitted to Holland’s demands, another part of his essence ebbed away, leaving him bereft and